Newton's Third Law
by hymuk
Summary: Petra transfers out of her prestigious university after her freshman year for the performing, yet sub-par, Trost University. Pushed to leave by stress and expectations, she trades her luxury dorm and place on a D1 track team for shitty RAs and cheap beer. And somewhere there she meets Levi. In the end, he was just as much a force on her life as she was on his. Rivetra - College AU
1. Chapter 1

_Newton's Third Law_

 _CHAPTER 1_

Petra kicked the box of her books off of her bed, and watched the cardboard dent in, possibly along with the fifty pounds of hundred dollar textbooks that had been stored in there. She slid down her sheets to the linoleum floor of her new college dorm and buried her face into her knees. _How is this college so crappy? Why did I even decide to transfer here? Everything was fine… everything was fine…_

The fan in the corner of the room recycled the hot air that blew in through the window, just barely cooling the dorm off by a few degrees. And of course there was no air conditioning here either. She'd done the move on her own, and when she arrived into what she thought was her _single_ room, she discovered the school's overpopulation crisis, and that she'd been _sharing_ it.

She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, catching the droplets of sweat that'd settled along her hairline, trying to ignore her growing disgust. And yet here she was. It was her choice. But now, she was forgetting why she'd made it.

Her roommate wasn't here, and _thank god._ They'd met a few hours earlier, Petra had stepped in to find her emptying boxes of old science labs along the very thin imaginary line that split the room in two. So focused on her task, she hadn't even noticed the shocked redhead standing in the corner, until Petra's hand slipped, and the hinge creaked as the door hit the wall.

"Huh—" the girl had swung around, whipping her brown ponytail back, and looked at Petra from her hunched over position.

Petra stared back at her, and she was so sure that she'd went to the right room—378—but it's obvious _not_ , because a strange girl was… unpacking. "I'm really sorry, I think I've got the wrong—"

"Wait, you must be Petra." The girl stood to her full height, and made her way over to Petra, towering over her. "Hanji!" she exclaimed, shaking her hand with excitement. "Ahh, I've always wanted to have a sophomore as a roommate! I mean, as a junior, of course, I was a sophomore last year, quite obviously! I'm so interested in the possible stress changes between that of a sophomore and a junior. I've been tracking my own, but I need another student that I can monitor almost 24/7 for both years in order get rid of all the variables, and etc. I'm sure you're aware of all of that." Hanji smiled, then, adjusting her glasses, added, "I really have to finish this up if I want to go out later tonight." and turned back to her business.

Petra had dropped off her things, then retreated to the nearest café, with air conditioning, and camped out in there until she'd seen Hanji leave the building a couple hours later. During that time she'd also found out that she _would not_ be getting her own room, and that _no, she can't switch roommates._ She'd gotten along with everyone so well before in her life, so why stop now? But there were limits, even for her.

And now here she was. Hanji, she was pretty sure, had gone out clubbing, as far as she knew, and even though her side of the room was a complete mess, she'd somehow managed to keep it all on her side. Petra had to respect that.

She picked up her backpack—stuffed lightly with her wallet, phone, and a good book—and headed back to her dorm room.

It had to be the hottest day of the year; the air was stuffy and muggy, so much that it was literally palpable. Incoming freshman lugged cardboard boxes across grassy expanses of the campus, typically followed in tow by parents, siblings. Petra wove through them, already used to the process of move-in day (after all, she'd technically done it _twice_ by now). The only difference was this year she did it completely alone. No family, friends.

She used her student badge to get inside the dorm, and took the elevator up with a green-eyed freshman carrying two boxes of what was messily labeled as _DESK SHIT._

The whole floor was abuzz with conversation, the constant sound of slamming doors, boxes, furniture, and had a permanent smell of sweat mixed with deodorant. It was enough to make her want to run back to her room, whether Hanji would be in there or not.

Petra (eventually finding her way back to her room) was ready to go back and finish unpacking, maybe catch up with the latest Game of Thrones episode, and enjoy the quiet company of her floor fan. But when she pushed in on the wooden door, she found it locked. Which normally won't be a problem. If she had her keys on her. Growing panicked, she started rifling through all her pockets, and pulled her backpack in front of her to search through it. Hoping, praying that she didn't do the unthinkable. That she didn't leave her keys in the room.

"Crap." she muttered under her breath. She could feel the sweat start to pool up under the back of her shirt. Of _all_ the days to be locked out of her room. _This_ can't _be real_. And yet it was.

She banged the heel of her palm against the wooden door one last time, in a desperate attempt to get it open. It didn't.

Petra pulled her phone out, and quickly dialed Hanji's phone number (the one _good_ thing she'd gotten out of their encounter) and waited impatiently to hear the girl's screeching voice on the other end.

" _Hi! You've reached the LOVELY and SPECTACULAR Hanji Zoë!"_

Crap.

" _Unfortunately I'm either busy conducting my latest research project (the effects of vodka on a death defyingly boring lecture class!) or I'm OUT CLUBBING! AHAHahahahaha… So if you may be calling on a subject of UTMOST IMPORTANCE, PLEASE LEAVE A MESSAGE AFTER THE BEEP!"_

Petra heaved a sigh, and waited through the automated message for the beep. "Hello? Hey, Hanji. It's me, your new roommate, Petra. I," she sighed again. "I, uh, got locked out of our dorm room. If you could maybe call back or come and let me in… that would really be great. Uh, thanks."

Petra slid to the dorm floors, ignoring the streaks of grime that painted the once white linoleum. _God_. What she wouldn't do to have her fan back… or for that matter some air conditioning in this dorm.

She cradled her head in her arms once more, leaning her weight onto her upright knees. She couldn't help but wonder what she was doing here. Either way, she had nobody to blame but herself for this. She'd transferred on her own accord, and had accepted the offer long before she'd told anyone about it.

 _I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this…._

The drone of pure anger and tiredness pounded inside her head, as if she was physically banging it against the wall behind her. And maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea.

She pulled her head out of its nest, and glanced around, readjusting herself to the white lights. Families walked through the halls, tossing around cardboard boxes, luggages. This _was_ technically an Underclassmen dorm (so how exactly did Hanji get here?) so it was natural that it would be so busy. So much hotter and crowded than any of the other dorms…

And, hell. Maybe she'd promised herself that at this college she was going to keep a low profile. Hardly bother the administration. Not become a well known face, but maybe a typical good-student with a few close friends. But _god_ did she want to get inside her room. And like hell she was going to go back to the stupid coffee shop (it was overrun with people).

The weeks leading up to her transfer, she'd received a Survival Guide package from the college, with addresses, phone numbers of several people like the dean, the med center, etc… In this, there was also information about her RA. And while she didn't remember _anything_ about him, she was sure it wouldn't be hard to find him in this place. Maybe get him to give her a spare key…

Petra dragged herself back to her feet, suddenly disgusted at the fact that she'd sat on the floor, and trudged through the halls, until she finally came across a community board where the RAs' information was posted (name, room number, phone). From there she headed to his room.

She gave three swift knocks, and did all but pound on the wooden door. She was sweating buckets, and it didn't help that _somehow_ the noise was even worse down this hall. Petra usually likes to think of herself as a calm, level headed, patient person. And for the most part, anyone you meet would attest to that. But it's been a long day. A day filled with crazy roommates, freshmen move-ins, getting locked out, and record breaking heat. She had a right to feel this way.

She leaned against the wood frame of the door, and when she didn't hear a reply, she knocked again. No reply. But the door was open just a crack, and honestly, what kind of an RA would he be if he wasn't in his room during freshmen move in?

 _Screw it_.

She pushed the door open, speaking as she entered the room. "Hi! Levi, sorry to bother you. I got locked—"

Petra's voice failed her and she stopped short.

It took her a few moments to process exactly what she was seeing. She stood in the doorway, unsure of what to do.

A girl straddled a guy in an oversized office chair, her back to Petra, and from the look and sound of it, the two were in a heavy makeout session. And at this point, Petra wouldn't doubt if they were going to go further at this point. The two were completely oblivious to Petra's presence, and continued without stopping. It wasn't until the guy cracked one of his eyes open and saw Petra standing timidly in the doorway, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, that he stopped and pulled away.

Petra snapped out of her stupor, and was prepared to get the hell out of there, when the guy started undoing the knot between his eyebrow.

"Of _all_ the times, _freshman_." his voice was a deep rumble, saturated with anger. The girl, who at first had been deeply invested in the guy, finally realized what was going on, and turned around. She stared at Petra half in shock, half in embarrassment. She tugged at the undone buttons on her shirt, revealing red marks that would probably turn into hickies in a bit, and pushed past the redhead to escape to the hallways.

Levi didn't stop her. Instead he watched the girl disappear, then turned his attention back to Petra. This tiny redhead standing in the doorway of his room—who'd _interrupted_ him for who knows what reason.

"I didn't realize you were in here with your girlfriend, dude."

"She's not my girlfriend." It came out a bit more defensive than he'd meant it to be.

"Oh. Friend with benefit?"

"Nobody important, and none of your _fucking business_." he tousled his hair with his hand, and looked back at the girl. "Well?" he arched his eyebrow, and readjusted himself in his seat. He glowered at her.

Petra, still lost momentarily, finally snapped back into reality. "Levi. Are you the RA?"

"And you, freshman?"

Petra grimaced. "First. I'm _not_ a freshman. Second. I need your help. Because hey, it's the hottest day of the year, and I locked myself out of my room." she sighed. "I just want to get back in and sit in front of my fan."

Levi squinted at her. " _Wow._ So you got locked out of your room on the _first day_ , and you're _not_ a freshman. What are you doing here?"

"I'm a transfer student."

"You transferred _here_?" he scoffed.

"I don't think you're in much of a position to judge." she sneered at him, suddenly defensive, and sick of the heat and shitty RAs. "At least I'm not the one who got caught making out with some girl who I barely know."

Levi rolled his eyes at her, almost as if begrudgingly admitting that she was right, and paused before he said anything. "Right." Standing up from his chair, he pocketed his own keyring sitting on his desk, and left the room, beckoning Petra to follow him.

He wove through the hallways with a sense of purpose, and to Petra's surprise, the other students knew enough to clear a path wherever he walked. She tried to think back to anything she might know about him. _Levi Ackerman_. Huh. His name sounded vaguely familiar, but it wasn't anything she could remember.

Levi led her through the elevators and throng of students with a practiced ease until they reached the front desk downstairs. Ignoring the buzz of people, and the old man sitting behind the desk—giving Levi the stink eye—Levi took Petra to a backroom where he produced a new key and tossed it at her.

"Replacement key. Return it back in two days or you get fined five bucks." Petra caught it, and tucked it into the pocket of her shorts.

"Thanks, Levi."

"Yeah, whatever." he rolled his eyes, and led her back out to the lobby. As they walked past the desk, the man sitting there pulled harshly on Levi's sleeve, holding him back.

"Ackerman," the old man sniffed. "I trust that if I come by yours or her room later today I won't find you in each others' company."

Levi tore his arm from the man's iron grip, scoffing. "Just showing the new student around, Old Man. Don't worry about that." His scowl was deeper than usual, and he made his way back to the girl (who, surprisingly, was waiting for him).

Petra waited for him, watching the exchange between the two, and when Levi came back to her, she fell into step with his quick pace. "What was that about?"

"He wanted to make sure we're not fucking."

Petra scoffed, and he turned back to her, arching his eyebrow. This wasn't the response he usually got. It was unexpected. "What, you don't think it could happen?" he demanded. In reality, he hated to admit it, but hey, maybe his pride was hurt a little. Usually he'd get at least get a blush or a nervous laugh.

"I just met you, and so far, it seems like you're hellbent on hazing me and are plotting my murder."

He jammed his thumb into the elevator button. "I'm not." he said defensively.

"Yeah, well. Either way, I met you like, what… ten minutes ago? I don't know how quickly you usually go with other people, but I usually like to go to dinner, or at least get drinks with the person I'm going to screw."

Levi glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "Dinner _then_ screw. Got it."

"Shut up, idiot." he could tell that her voice didn't have as much venom as she might've intended it to sound like. And maybe there was the shadow of a smile forming on the corner of her lips.

The two got out of the elevator, and as they were about to go their separate ways—Petra to her own room, and Levi debating the possibility to go find that girl again—she stopped him, pulling on the crook of his arm.

"I'm Petra, by the way."

He glanced back at her, seemingly bored, but she could've sworn she saw a faint smirk on the tips of his lips. "Welcome to Trost, Petra."

Petra had gone back into her room, revelled in the progression of modern technology, and read her book sitting in front of her fan. It was three more hours until Hanji came back (she hadn't gone clubbing, this time, at least) and by then Petra was lying on top of her unmade mattress, scrolling through Instagram.

Hanji dropped her bag to the ground, and undid her boots, glancing over at her silent roommate. It wasn't until she saw what she was looking at on her phone that she finally spoke up.

"So you've met Levi?"

Petra glanced at her, with a mixture of guilt and embarrassment. She turned the offending phone towards Hanji, begrudgingly showing her the Instagram profile of Levi Ackerman.

"How sad am I?" she asked, sighing as Hanji leaned over the gap between the beds to take the phone.

"I've seen worse." she said thoughtfully. She looked at the few photos of the familiar raven haired guy. Most of them alone. If you looked at a couple of the older ones, she was in them too.

She heard Petra groan into her pillow.

"If you didn't sleep with the guy—"

" _I didn't_ "

"Then I don't really care what you do. I've known this guy for… seven years?"

Petra rolled over onto her stomach and stared at her in shock. " _Seven?"_

Hanji nodded, now checking the photos he was tagged in. _Here_ were all the photos of him with other girls. She bet if she showed him them, he wouldn't be able to name half of them.

"We went to high school together nearby, and happened to wind up in the same college. Same thing with Erwin and Mike, though I don't suppose you'd know them."

She shook her head slightly. "Can't say I do."

Hanji sighed, and smiled. "Well," she tossed both boots to the side, and hopped onto her bed. "If you continue this trend you've started, I bet you'll be seeing a lot more of us."


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

Weeks passed by, and Petra started growing accustomed to school life. She started befriending people in her lecture classes—going out for lunches, sometimes dinners with them—and she got used to the presence, or lack thereof, of her roommate. The only thing she couldn't get used to, was Levi Ackerman. He was everywhere she went. He was studying in the library while she was picking up research books. He was in line at the coffee shop while she waited for her mocha to be made. She'd be doing laundry and she'd see him making out with some girl in the corner of the room.

It was like she couldn't fucking escape him.

The only times she was sure to not have to see him, were during class. When she would be sitting in grand lecture halls, in a room full of eighty other students, all frantically taking down whatever words her professor had just uttered. Those were her only moments of peace.

Today was no different.

Petra left the lecture hall, carrying her physics textbook in her arms. Her hand was sore from writing Professor Cameron's entire spiel, and her mind felt numb from an hour of listening to her drone.

Petra walked into one of the campus library's, hoping to get some work done before drowning herself in Netflix reruns of her favorite shows. At least then she'd have done something useful with herself.

She scanned the room for empty tables, and there were _none_. So resigned to sit with someone else, she picked a mostly empty table at random. And then she realized who was sitting at the head of the table. She dropped her bag, and when he didn't take notice, she finally spoke up.

"I'm starting to think you're following me." she stated firmly.

Levi looked up from his book, and arched a single eyebrow. "We live in the same dorm, and on the same floor, genius."

She sat down at the spot where she'd left her bag, and slumped half onto the table. "That doesn't mean we should be sitting at the same table—AKA, spend more time than necessary together."

She looked over at him and saw that his gaze had been redirected onto his book— _In The Garden of Beasts,_ Erik Larson. "Not my problem." he fingered the corner of a page and turned it over. Petra watched him placidly, then turned back to the notebook she'd set in front of herself.

"Annoying fucker," she muttered under her breath. She looked back at him again, and hoped he didn't notice how her gaze strayed a beat too long on him.

Petra, promptly deciding to ignore Levi, pulled out her earbuds and flooded her senses with the steady rhythm of her music and tried to focus on her physics paper…

She walked back to her dorm on her own, a little over an hour later. Midway through her study session, a gorgeous brunette had walked up to their table and given Levi the, straight up, sexiest kiss she had ever witnessed. She tore her gaze away instantly and tried to focus on the material she'd just learned in class. _Just focus on light refraction, Petra._ A minute after she arrived, Levi collected his things and they left together to _God-knows-where_.

When she got back, Hanji was lying on her stomach in her bed, scribbling onto a notepad as she looked onto a textbook. She was so engrossed in her work, she didn't realize Petra had come in until the door slam shut behind them. Immediately, Hanji crawled up from her stomach, and turned around to see Petra, a grin spreading across her face. She pulled her earbuds off and grinned even wider—if that was possible—when Petra gave her a shy wave.

"My FAVORITE sophomore!" she cooed, repositioning herself to sit on her bed.

Petra dumped her bag onto her bed, cringing when she remembered that she'd left her laptop in, and praying that it wouldn't get hurt. But she looked over her shoulder and grinned back at Hanji. "How are you?"

Hanji nodded furiously, setting her pen and pad to the side, turning to give her full attention to Petra. "Swell. Delightful, really. I'm looking over some biology chapters, trying to come up with experiments." She lifted a her notepad and showed her the yellow page covered in a deep blue scrawl. "Nerve regeneration."

"Sounds fun."

"Oh yes, it really is."

Petra sat on the edge of her bed, and ran her fingers through her hair. Distracted, bored,

antsy. She felt alone. A little isolated. She glanced around her room, from the fairy lights she hung up the other day, and the old photos of her friends. And then the stack of books that was starting to grow on her desk. Then she looked back at Hanji. By now she'd already supported her textbook in her lap, and was staring at some chart, trying to make sense of it.

Petra cleared her throat, unknowingly, drawing back Hanji's attention. "You, uh… you wouldn't want to get dinner," she cleared her throat again, "would you?"

Immediately, Hanji's expression softened slightly, then quickly shifted back to unrestrained glee. "Would I have dinner with the best person in the world? OF COURSE."

* * *

The two ended up in a small restaurant just off campus that served greasy american food. Hanji had offered other places—thai, korean, italian—but Petra had turned them all down. Fatty comfort food was all she really needed at this point.

They sat at this table in the middle of the room, a dingy lamp suspended over them, illuminating the dust floating overhead and making their face have this unnaturally white-green tinge to them. The restaurant was surprisingly crowded with college students, all chatting away aimlessly, drinking bottles of beer and cans of coke, wasting the time. Petra kind of liked the way it was a little too noisy, and the fan overhead a little too loud. It had this great artificial life to it that little by little replenished life back into her.

The server, another college student, had come up and dropped a couple of glasses of water at their table a couple of moments ago, along with two menus in plastic pockets, the clear surface already clouded from age. The two read through the menu in near silence, Hanji contemplating every item—sometimes aloud—and Petra, silently glancing from page to page. Soups… sandwiches and burgers… meatloaf… Violently american if you didn't include the donuts and the deep fried ice cream on the back section of the menu. But it was exactly what she needed.

Petra found herself wandering the room with her gaze, watching tables full of loud alternative girls in dark lipstick laughing and playing poker, and then a few couples sitting at their tables, full of chatting, or lack thereof. She thought back to her last college, and how she might've been like them—oblivious, self-absorbed. She wondered what was stopping her from acting that way again. It was so much fun.

She turned back to Hanji, who was now sitting relatively tall, her foot tucked under her opposite thigh so her knee was sticking out to the side, bent. But her gaze was elsewhere, like her thoughts. She wondered what Hanji thought regularly.

The silence was finally broken when the waitress came and took their order (meatloaf and mashed potatoes plus iced tea for Petra, and a cheeseburger for Hanji, hold the onions). Hanji was surprisingly quiet.

"I, uh," Hanji smiled sheepishly, glancing around the room. "I used to come here a lot when I was a freshman."

"Oh yeah?"

Hanji laughed, like she was jaded ."Aha. Yup. I would come here with Erwin and Levi—you met him—and we would grab a couple of sodas, a few burgers. From there we might go see a movie, sneak into a couple of other ones. And then we'd walk. Around the city at dark."

Petra listened intently, never expecting Hanji to start talking about her freshman year—her first year in this city, on this campus, of all things. She had this far off look. Like she was reliving the moment.

"It was great."

The waitress came and dropped off Petra's iced tea. And almost autonomously, Hanji asked for a can of coke.

She ripped off the paper from the straw and began stirring the dark brown tea, absentmindedly. "There was this place I used to visit a lot too, when I was a freshman."

Hanji perked up.

Petra smiled, and chuckled, almost unsure of herself. "Yeah. It was this pancake house and we would always go there whenever we were out after midnight whether or not we were hungry. And they used to have this deal where anytime after 2am, a stack of pancakes would become a quarter—" she looked down into the whirlpool she was making with her straw and smiled. "—which, if I might add, is practically _unheard of_. Especially in New York city. But they did. And whenever we went there I would always get a stack of blueberry pancakes, and I would drown them in syrup." She thought back to the last time she was there. Right before she'd moved. She'd gone and got a stack of pancakes with her friends, but it was 2pm instead of 2am. The syrup just as sticky as she remembered—some got on her hand and stained the inside of her jacket pocket—but she hardly touched the stack. There was some sort of solemn air about the table, and the most she could do was sip at her cup of coffee. "I mean. It was probably just store bought batter."

Hanji nodded, and her coke came. She opened the can, a satisfying pop, and she poured it into the glass full of ice the waitress had given her. "So you like pancakes?"

Petra nodded, taking a sip from her glass. "Oh yes. Without a doubt, yes. Breakfast foods are far superior to regular foods." Hanji let out an unrestrained laugh, and nearly knocked her can over onto the pale, faded linoleum floors.

Petra couldn't help but smile.

As the night progressed, they started talking more and more, chatting about stupid things. Mundane things. They bounced back from concerts they'd gone to, to stupid things their teachers do during lectures, to Hanji's latest experiments, and then to some book that either one of them read and _just couldn't get enough of_. They were laughing, and soon enough, their voices became lost in the din that filled the rest of the room. They only started toning it back down again when a new waitress, their own must've been taking a break, came a gave them each of their respective dishes.

Petra didn't realize how hungry she'd become, and started attacking her food. Hanji did the same.  
Midway through her dish, her mouth stuffed with food, Hanji heard Petra call her name.

"Yes?" her head perked up, as if she was a dog.

Petra swallowed, clearing her throat. "I was just wondering, you're close with Levi aren't you?"

"I've only known him for… " she started counting off on her fingers. "Seven years." she grinned madly, then took a swig of her dwindling coke. "I'd say I know the shorty _pretty_ well. Whether he likes it or not, that is." she let out a cackle.

"So I was wondering, what the _hell_ is his deal?"

"His deal?" Hanji snorted. "He has many of those. I'm afraid you'll need to specify."

"Don't I know it," Petra grumbled.

"Hey, just shoot. I'm all game for spilling the rather shallow details of his life. He's kind of a bore sometimes."

"So first off, I guess, why the hell is he an RA? It seems like he _hates_ it."

Hanji swallowed her sip of coke, and nodded. " _Oh yes_. He really does. The simple answer is that someone thought it would be a rather formative experience for him. Maybe even build character."

"Someone?"

"His mom. Plus the dean was getting so pissed off. He thought restricting him to a dorm mainly full of underclassmen would make him stop." Hanji smiled, almost tiredly. " _It didn't_."

"And, like, what's up with him and all these girls? Like I swear he was _just_ making out with some random girl a few weeks ago, and suddenly there's that brown-eyed beauty regularly picking him up from random spots on campus."

That was what made Hanji _really_ lose it. She started laughing, and couldn't stop, to the point where she was hunched over and everyone in the room was staring at her.

But eventually she calmed back down, glancing around the room, stifling whatever giggles she had left. "I was wondering if you'd ask that question." she hiccuped out, emptying her glass of whatever coke was remaining. With a slight of the hand and a quick word, she got it refilled, then took a large swig, drinking half of her glass.

"Levi Ackerman. Where do I begin?" Hanji had this frighteningly devious grin, and for a second, Petra regretted even asking her. "There is no single way to describe _Levi Ackerman_."

Hanji twisted her torso around so her elbow rested on the back of her chair. She glanced around the room, pausing briefly every so often, and almost seeming to keep a mental check of those spots. Craning her neck back to look at Petra, her grin widened. " _You see,_ Petra, _darling_. Out of the crowd of people who are currently inside this room, I know for a fact that at least a third of the people in here—plus, perhaps—have slept with Levi Ackerman."

Her eyes widened.

"Levi Ackerman, besides having a near perfect GPA, is somewhat of a legend around here, if you haven't noticed. In fact I'm surprised you didn't at least _hear_ about him back at your old university." Hanji furrowed her brow, pensively. "Odd."

She quickly dismissed the thought with another sip of her drink. Petra, unconsciously, did the same with hers.

"Anyways. Levi Ackerman, despite being a short, angry, apathetic and careless imp, is a legend on and off campus. Essentially in most of the colleges in our nearby vicinity. He hates frat boys with a burning passion, but that doesn't stop him from going to their parties and drinking their beer. He goes _fucking hard_." Hanji let out a brief giggle. " _As do I._

" _But_. The main difference between the two of us, is the fact that he sleeps around, _all the time_. With anyone, virtually. He's slept with most of the girls in our grade alone—maybe even some guys—and the crazy, pretty awful thing? These girls really _want_ him. There's some sort of appeal to them in his cold and bored expression. Somehow it increases his sex appeal. I tried finding some biological explanation, but nothing adds up. What's worse is that so many of these girls wish, _hope_ that they're the ones that'll change him. They'll be the ones who make him stay. And they're the ones he hurts the most, whether he realizes it or not." Hanji had her gaze focused elsewhere and Petra could see a hint of regret. Hanji sighed, then turned her body back to face Petra. "But I think the longest he's ever stayed is a couple weeks. He's just… he's just going through the motions at this point."

Petra listened intently, learning about this bored, lusting, genius of some sorts. _Levi Ackerman_.

"What an enigma." she mumbled to herself.

Hanji, whose chin had been resting on her laced knuckles, lifted her eyes to look at Petra. "Oh yes. I agree."

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hey everyone! I've really been wanting to update this story for weekends, but I didn't know where to go from my first chapter—in an interesting way, at least. So I spent forever trying to figure out how to make this chapter not terrible!

The funny part is I have some chapters lined up that I really want to publish, but I feel like I need to create more of a build? Hm. Either way, I hope you all have a lovely weekend, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

Petra reached for the cardboard box she'd left underneath her bed when she'd first moved in here. The packaging tape still meticulously lined the seam between the two flaps, covering the inside of the box. She shifted her weight onto her knees, and stretched herself to grab a pencil from the top of her desk, and used it to mercilessly tear through the tape until the box opened. She pulled the flaps open until she was left with the contents of the box.

For a second, all she could do was stare. And the things packed inside stared back at her, as if in disbelief. Like they couldn't believe what she'd left behind.

All memorabilia of her running achievements. At the very top of the box was a stack of running bibs of her most memorable races. The first time she'd made it to regionals, then the time she made it to state. And the bib that tracked her as she qualified for nationals. The bib for the biggest race for her age and division in the country. They all stared back at her. Numbers 067, 824, 844, and 503.

Carefully, unsure, she pulled them out of the box and set them carefully on top of her bed. And then she sifted through the medals, the baton from the winning relay race her high school team had given to her once she graduated, signed by each leg of her senior year 4x100 relay team. And slipped inside, the signatures and notes of everyone else on the team. She blinked away the wet spots starting to crowd her vision.

But buried at the bottom of all of this were her racing flats and track spikes. Track had always been her soft spot, had always had a special place in her heart. There was something about smelling the fresh track in the rain, and the burning tinge that it added to the air on a hot day. The day the city track got remodeled and finally reopened, the whole team lined up on their knees, a few people to a lane, and they licked the fresh track. She still remembers the feel of the ridged surface on her tongue.

Pulling them out from the box, she set her spikes in her lap, running the palm of her hand under the sharp peaks of each metal spike, still screwed to the bottom of her shoes. She traced her finger along the smooth surface of the black logo, then onto the golden surface. She'd told her coach that if she ever qualified for states she'd get a pair of golden spikes. Because she'd proven herself. When she actually did qualify, the entire team chipped in to get her a pair. She never wore them to anywhere further than regionals, but she always loved seeing them laced together, hanging off of the knob of her closet door. She doesn't know what pushed her to bring them with her to college, or even here after she transferred. She didn't plan on running track here. Yet…

The door slammed open, and Petra jumped, scrambling up and kicking the box back under her bed.

Levi slinked into the room, looking around for Hanji, probably.

"What tHe fUck." Petra shouted at him. He trained his eyes on her, and noticed that she had slipped one shoe over each hand, like she had armed herself.

He smirked, then walked up to her, and lowered each hand, cautiously. "Relax. I was just looking for four eyes."

She let her hands drop to her sides, reluctantly, and started tying her shoes back together.

Satisfied, he backed away from her again, and let his eyes flick around the room. He noticed the bibs lying on top of her covers, and the stray medals on the floor, the bed… _Holy fuck. She must've been good._

He looked back at Petra, who at this point had her head down, focused solely on tying back her shoelaces in what must've been the saddest way possible.

"You run?" he asked, admiring one of the gold medals dropped carelessly by her pillow.

Her head jerked up in surprise. "Huh?" She followed his gaze, and noticed him staring at one of her medals. That one she'd gotten at a college invitational.

Nodding, she placed her shoes back into the box. "Yeah." she paused briefly.

"Yeah. I used to run… a lot." she felt ashamed saying that, especially in the presence of all her running souvenirs. How long had it even been since she went on a decent long run? Three months? Four?

Levi's presence just worsened the whole ordeal, and she felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. She thought back to her high school coach and team. And even briefly her college team. Or what _was_ her college team. Wordlessly, she grabbed the rest of her running things, and dumped them back into the box, hearing the satisfying clink of the medals, then setting the bibs carefully back on top.

She let Levi pick up and examine her medal, but grabbed her keys, phone, and wallet from the her desk. She swung her jacket on, and pushed past him towards the door. "Feel free to wait here for Hanji, but I'm going to have to ditch."

Petra turned down the hallway towards the elevator, and tried to think about getting away as quickly as she could.

* * *

The only thing that could really calm her down—besides maybe a run—was going to the bookstore on campus. She'd discovered it the first few weeks after she'd moved in, and she found herself going back to it whenever she was stressed.

It was a small two-floor semi-used bookstore, staffed by hipster college students in flannels, who would all be hunched over the register, reading a book. It was comfortably busy there—with just enough people around regularly for the place not to feel empty. A few people in the YA section. A couple in the self-help.

Petra liked to walk through the aisles of ash wood bookshelfs, stuffed with a mixture of hardcover and paperback books, the spines already cracked and worn. There was something undeniably charming about used books and library books. It had that distinct shared smell that let you know that there were many readers before you. She liked seeing the yellowed pages of the book, and the slightly rough feel of it when you turned the page with your finger.

She stepped through the single glass pane door, the bell ringing delicately when she pushed it open. A guy was sitting on a stool behind the register, reading. He wore a pair of black frame glasses that were _extremely_ flattering, and was completely engrossed in his book. She passed the register.

The store was half empty, as usual, but there were a few people scattered around. A couple whispering behind one of the shelves, and a couple people browsing.

Petra knew her place in this setup, as if this was some scene from a movie and she was just another extra placed in the cookbooks section, between authors with the last name L-T. Then, like every other time she came here, she went to the Fiction section, and picked a book from the shelf. A different one than last time. If she'd counted all the books that she'd only read the first few chapters for, it probably outnumber the books she'd finished in the past year.

She found a particularly worn copy of _The Help_ , by Kathryn Stockett, and sat down on the steps that separated the first floor from the second floor landing. She threw her bag to the ground, and sat on the edge of the step. She cracked the book open, and started reading the first chapter.

Levi was meeting Hanji for coffee. When he got to the cafe, she was already sitting at a table, staring blankly at her laptop. She had a Word document pulled up, and when you looked, there was only half a page that was filled up. He sat down in the seat across from her, holding a paper cup filled with black coffee. He started emptying his packets of sugar into it.

"Sometimes," she said, "I just stare at the stupid blinking cursor. And I feel wordless. Like there's nothing I could possibly say or write on this document." She blinked briefly, as if in a trance. He watched her over the rim of his glasses, and tore the top off another sugar packet off. Her gaze shifted off of the computer screen.

"And other times," she said, relentless, "I'm typing at top speed." She lifted her own coffee cup from the table, and took a sip. "83 words a minute."

"113." Levi said.

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Well, we can't all be special like you, shorty."

Sighing, she closed the top of her laptop, and pushed her (now empty) coffee cup across to the middle of the table. "What do you think of drinks tonight?"

"Can't." he replied blandly, stirring his drink. He took a confident sip, and relished the feeling of the scalding coffee passing over his tongue. It was too thin. He needed half and half.

"I have to go to some stupid music thing with Camille." he took another sip.

Hanji watched him with curiosity. "Camille," she said. "Camille, Camille, Camille…. Which one is she again?"

"The violinist with the brown hair."

"Ah, yes. Her." Hanji gave a brief grin. "The sexy one. I can see why you like her."

He grunted.

"Well, enough to go to a recital with her, it seems."

"Not even hers," he muttered. He took another sip.

"Still, enough to care." Hanji grinned, and settled back into her chair, making herself as comfortable as possible on the stiff wood surface. "Let's see. She's the longest in a while, I think, right?"

Levi thought about it too. "Yeah. I think so."

"A couple of weeks." Hanji nodded approvingly. "You're getting better at this."

He snickered. "Well don't expect this to become a trend. I just happen to enjoy her company."

"Amongst other things."

"Amongst other things." he agreed.

"Do you plan on keeping it going? I mean, she's pretty much a great package. She's smart. Talented. Gorgeous. She has a great sense of humor—"

"—she laughs at _your_ jokes—"

"— _exactly_ what I mean. I don't see any reason for you letting her go."

Levi had a fleeting thought cross his mind. "I can see a reason why."

"Oh?"

Levi ignored it. "Amongst others, it just doesn't feel right. It's _too_ right. You know? Or moreso, _she_ is. It can't work out."

Hanji shrugged, a grin growing on her face. "Look at you. Thinking about love. About your future. Getting married—"

"Enough." he growled.

She suppressed her grin. "When will it end?"

" _Tomorrow._ " he said decisively.

Hanji raised a single eyebrow, and watched her friend (because that's what he was) take another sip of the burning coffee. He's going to wake up one day and realize that he burned all his fucking tastebuds off. She was tempted to pull it away from him. But Levi pretty much does what he wants.

"Well," Hanji took a deep breath, "Try not to break her heart _too_ much. Especially after this recital that's not even hers."

"Yeah, well. They always take it kind of hard."

"I can't imagine why."

He shrugged.

Levi polished off the rest of his coffee.

* * *

When Hanji got back to her dorm room, she found Petra on the floor again, sifting through her old running memorabilia. Her back was to the door, and she was hunched over the cardboard box, looking at an old photo. A team photo.

She let the door hit the wall, and Petra turned around the face Hanji, jumping when she heard the soft hit. She had earbuds in, and immediately she pulled them out. "Hey, Hanji." she forced a smile, then sheepishly looked back at her box.

Hanji's expression softened, and she smiled back warmly. "Hey Petra. Sorry if I'm intruding."

"Oh, no." Petra gave a soft laugh. "No, I was just looking through some old junk."

"Doesn't look like junk."

Petra was taken aback. She wasn't used to Hanji not agreeing and laughing. "You're right." she finally admitted. "It's not. I mean, not to me. At least."

Hanji squatted down beside Petra and looked at the smiling faces on the photo. They were all squinting. Like the sun was in their eyes. "You should go back to running. I think it would be therapeutic for you."

"Yeah?"

"I don't know why you stopped—and it's none of my business, really—but something tells me you'll be a lot more genuinely happy when you start up again."

"Yeah. Maybe."

Petra was leaving the library late that night, a printed out copy of her essay tucked neatly inside the fold of her laptop. It was raining when she was making the long way back to her dorm. She lifted the heel of her rainboot with every step, walking through puddles and the damp pavement. She was lost in her thoughts, thinking about everything from the mundane, to her greater purpose in life.

The heel of her boot skidded across the cement, snapping her out of her thoughts. Distracted, she readjusted the tilt of her umbrella, pausing in her step. Then continued on.

She passed the occasional person rushing by, their hood drawn up over their face, damp from the rain. All she could think about was the essay safely stowed in her bag. It wasn't until she passed the main music building—Hoeffler Hall—that she noticed a lone figure standing in the door, under the awning.

Petra squinted through the rain. It was Levi.

His face, illuminated by the white fluorescents of the lobby, and slim cigarette hanging from his lips, the tip orange.

"Hey," Levi turned around. "Smoking is shit for your health."

Petra Ral was standing just in front of him, rain pouring onto her umbrella, creating a fine curtain of water around her.

He took a long draw from it, letting out an exhale into the rain. "Relax, just this one time. I'm just really stressed and I thought it might help. Never any other."

"And is it helping now?"

"...not really."

Shaking her head, she plucked the cigarette from his fingers, putting it out against the cement blocks of the building's exterior. She handed it back to him, the whole thing damp from the rain.

He studied the crushed cigarette in his hand. "Thanks for watching out for my lungs. I'm already doing a shit job taking care of my liver."

He saw her crack a smile in the corner of his eyes.

Petra noticed how he shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks. He was dressed nicely—light button down, dark slacks. He cleaned up well for such a hot mess. He even had a tie he must've undone hanging around his neck lazily.

"What are you doing here?"

"My girlfriend dragged me here to see a fucking recital."

"Your girlfriend… what's her name again?"

"Camille."

" _Right_. Her recital?"

"Not even," he scoffed, echoing the words he'd said to Hanji the other day. "Just some random guy in her music classes I think. I don't know, honestly." He sighed, running his hand through his hair.

"Well, have fun working out whatever your dilemma may be." She smiled at him, then turned on her heels, heading back into the rain. He was tempted for a split second to follow her through the rain, and walk her back to their dorm.

But his girlfriend was probably starting to wonder where he was. He shouldn't keep her waiting.

* * *

Author's Note [4:10AM]

So it's been a month.

But I can explain. Maybe (not).

The thing is I have all these chapters and blurbs in this verse that I thought I would use for upcoming chapters, but I kept changing what I wanted to happen or replacing crappy chapters. So I'm just this disorganized fool trying to regain my bearings and understand where all these random paragraphs on my doc are coming from. I'm debating creating a separate blurb series or dump where I can just post it if you guys want to read the word vomit.

 **Thank you for all the kind reviews friends**. It's pretty neat reading what you guys think is going to happen, and I hope that this story will live up to your expectations (and if the expectations are low, well I hope it'll _exceed_ them). I'm trying to go for the slow build, but it's also 3:18AM and my thinking's cloudy, but I've been wanting to get a chapter out recently. This is the best out of the other options I think. I hope, at least. Feel free to PM me about anything!

[I wrote this note a few weeks ago, actually. I wasn't sure whether or not to post this chapter. I don't even know now. Buy I thought, hey, why not.]

Thanks guys!


	4. Chapter 4

Levi broke up two weeks later with Camille with little fanfare. It happened on a Wednesday afternoon just after she got out of her psychology class, and Levi was waiting for her outside of the Arts and Sciences building on the southern tip of campus, just like he did every other week. He'd been waiting longer than he had initially thought to finally break up with her, but every time he saw her, he didn't have the heart to tell her that what had started out as a hot romance (just like every other one night stand he'd had, he supposed) was gone. And although he'd done this plenty of times before, he found himself rehearsing the words in his head as he waited on a bench outside the building, thinking about how exactly he wanted to phrase it and how to minimize the damage. Because he'd been with Camille too long, longer than usual, for her to get the usual deadpan. When classes let out, he spotted her in the crowd, and she came over, lifting her arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss like she did all the Wednesdays before. But he stiffened slightly at her touch, and she knew instantly that something was off. She pulled away quickly, letting go of him, and rocked back on her heels.

"What's wrong?" she asked. Levi looked at her, the way that she stared at him, and clutched her books slightly tighter-she knew exactly what was going to happen. Pausing before he spoke, he placed his hand on the small of her back, and they walked a bit farther from the building.

"Let's get coffee."

* * *

Petra was sitting through a physics lecture, trying to focus on the professor's words through her sleepy haze. For the past few nights, she'd been staying up writing up essays and preparing orals for almost every single class. She'd sit in her bed with her laptop on her knees and a mug and a pot of coffee on the floor. Every few minutes, she'd take a sip from the mug, and would mentally slap herself back awake. Usually when she did this, Hanji would be out-clubbing, in the lab, just God knows where in general. The empty dorm was the only benefit to Hanji's erratic sleep schedules.

They were talking about waves and wavelengths, and a loaded powerpoint was projected up towards the front of the hall. It was kind of hard to see it from where she was sitting, and she was starting to think she needed to get a new glasses prescription. Lost in her thoughts, she only came back when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, a quick pulse of energy against her thigh. Looking up to check if anyone else was watching (everyone else seemed to be as equally zoned out during the lecture), she stooped her head low, quickly pulling her phone out to see who had texted her.

It was a short text from Hanji: _Boy's back at it again_.

By the time Petra left the lecture hall, she'd started picking up on conversations around campus, and listening to people mumble about Levi. It was almost purely insane how much of an _obsession_ there was around this guy.

He broke up with Camille a couple of days ago, for unknown reasons, and half the campus was talking about it. Honestly, Petra felt worse for the girl than for Levi, given his dating record. She couldn't help but wonder why they'd broken up-Camille, for one, was perfect. She was smart, talented, and it wasn't like she was unattractive either. Reflecting on her thoughts, she rolled her eyes, walking into a coffee shop. _God, she wasn't better than anyone else on campus._ It wasn't like she _wasn't_ thinking about Levi and his love life either. When she stood in line at the shop, waiting to get her fix for coffee, she spotted Camille waiting for her drink, talking to a couple of friends. When their eyes met, Petra tried to give her a smile, but Camille gave her a slightly pained look, and glanced away quickly.

Petra walked into his room, expecting to find some girl in his lap, but instead, he was lying in bed, hanging upside off of the side and staring at his phone.

"Do you like it when all these people talk about you?" she asked, skipping any type of preamble.

" I don't give two fucks."

Petra rolled her eyes, and sat down in the empty space on his bed next to him. "I just don't get why people talk about you so much-"

"-because I'm refreshing in their boring lives."

Petra stared at him blankly, her eyes widening slightly. "Wow you are a narcissist." Petra picked up the bag that she had dropped on the floor, and stuck her tongue out, making a face when he flipped the bird at her. She slammed the door shut on him, storming out of the hallway. Halfway down, a girl who lived two doors down from her stopped her.

"Petra," she squeaked excitedly, "did you just hook up with Levi?"

Flashing her an insincere smile, she walked away, unlocking the door to her own room, and slipping inside.

A couple of hours later, Hanji found Petra staring at her phone, back against the wall. She had tried to get some work done, but she figured that since she'd already gotten all of her assignments in, there was no point in working. _She'd handle it over the weekend_. So she wasted most of her time going through Snapchat and Instagram, scrolling through her feeds and watching makeup tutorials that she'd never attempt.

Hanji slammed the door on her way in, dropping her bags and clapping her hands. "Petra." she said, rubbing her hands together. "You. Me. Drunk. Frat party tonight… what do you say?"

"No." Petra dropped her phone from her face, crossing her legs underneath her blanket.

" _Come on_ ," she groaned, spinning into her bed. She sunk into her sheets, staring at the ceiling. "Think of this as an academic detox where you get intoxicated. _It'll be great!_ "

Petra scoffed, turning her phone back on. "I'd really rather not, it's a Thursday."

"' _It's a Thursday,'_ " Hanji mimicked her voice crudely, making air quotes as she spoke. " _Fuck it!_ " she exclaimed. "Live a little Petra. You're a grown ass college student, you've never been to a frat party here-that I know of, which means you've been going to all the _bad_ ones-and you've been working your _ass_ off. Think of it as a work detox… where you get intoxicated." Hanji sat upright and paused, catching her breath. "It's, it's your choice."

Rolling her eyes, begrudgingly, Petra agreed, eliciting a yelp of excitement from Hanji.

When Petra got to the party, it was exactly everything that she'd expected. Hanji led her through, experienced enough to know her way around, and enough for people to greet her when they walked through. Every time they stopped to talk, Petra tried to ignore the way that the tipsy guys would stare at her, and she tried to stay close to Hanji the whole time.

Hanji had forced her into a dress. It was a dark bodycon dress that she'd bought over a year ago from Forever 21 when it was on sale. A size too small, the dress did little more than hang in her closet, layered behind other clothes that Hanji wore more often. The material was cheap, and it stuck to her body in uncomfortable ways, but when Hanji saw it hanging in her closet, she literally threw it at her, refusing to leave the room before Petra put it on. Now, Petra would unconsciously tug at the bottom hem of it, willing to make it longer than it actually was. She'd slipped on some liquid lipstick and put some eye makeup on, and although she thought she looked great in the mirror before they left, she felt increasingly more self conscious. But it wasn't like anybody would notice. They were too drunk and the house was too dimly lit for anybody to really take note. Petra pulled some hair back behind her ear, and followed Hanji.

"Hanji," Petra said, "I think it was a mistake for me to wear this dress."

Glancing back at the redhead, Hanji looked her up and down. "Hmm… No you look good. Anyways, other people are wearing dresses like that. You just look better." Hanji winked at her, clicking her tongue simultaneously. Blushing in the dark, they both walked into the kitchen where most of the alcohol was stashed. Both grabbing a couple of beer bottles, they hung around one of the hallways as Hanji talked to one of the frat boys, laughing and already loosening up-if that was even more possible for Hanji-as she continued to drink. Petra stood next to her, smiling and occasionally answering questions, taking sips of the disgusting beer. She stayed with them for a bit, but as time progressed, she became more bored, and finished her first beer. Mumbling an excuse, she walked back towards the kitchen to get another bottle. As she was opening up another one, she spotted Levi standing across from the island in front of her. He was dressed casually, holding a red cup in hand, probably drinking whatever was in the punch bowl. Without thinking, she drifted over to him.

"Levi," she said, taking a sip from her bottle.

He glanced up at her, trying not to look surprised. "Didn't think I'd ever find you here."

Petra gave a delighted laugh, the alcohol starting to show its effects. "Well, here I am. Well, uh, Hanji dragged me out here."

Levi eyed her, amused. He remembered how much more serious she was early today when she tried to confront him about his dating life. He took another sip from his cup and listened to her start to babble, her mindless chatter punctuated by her own giggles and laughter. Lost in his own thoughts, he was brought back into reality when she suddenly hit his arm.

"What the fuck." He said, giving her an annoyed glance.

"You're. Not. _Listening_." She slurred the last word to the point where he barely understood it. She tossed her empty beer bottle onto the counter, and reached for his cup, taking a sudden gulp. "Don't you know that if you like someone, you should _talk_ and _listen_ to them." Petra shook her head. " _God, you're such an idiot_ ," she muttered under her breath. "This is probably why _nobody_ wants to date you." He let out a scoff, letting the irony of her words sink in, and grabbed his cup back from her, emptying the rest.

But still, he watched her out of the corner of his eye, trying not to laugh at how badly she held her alcohol. _To think, Petra the straight laced student would get this drunk at a frat party on a Thursday night_. It wasn't like he was doing better. He bribed the other RA in the dorm to keep track of his floor that night so that he could sneak out.

"If Dawk comes looking for me," he'd said earlier that afternoon, "just make up some bullshit-like I went to the drugstore or something-and text me. I'll come over if he's really pissy about something."

Hanji had invited him to the frat party a couple of nights ago, but Levi hadn't been planning on attending. It was going to be the same as all the other ones, and he was not in the mood to go to some filthy house crowded with sloppy drunks. But after Petra had come into his room and had chewed him out for what was probably ten minutes, he figured that a couple of drinks wouldn't hurt his liver that much more. So he texted Hanji and headed out without her a few hours later. Looking at Petra now, he could almost forgive her for what happened earlier in the day, just because of what a fool she was making of herself now. When she started talking to him again, he made a point of nodding and pretending to listen to her talk about how she bought two books earlier today for her literature class, instead choosing to study the features of her face and the thin lines of liquid eyeliner.

"I'm not a literature major," she garbled, taking another drink of her new beer bottle, "but I _really love books._ Like I _fucking love them_ , Levi. Like, if a book was a person, I'd probably hook up with them. I _love books that freaking much_."

"Wow," Levi responded mockingly, taking a sip of beer. "I love books a lot too."

" _Holy crap_ , Levi that is literally _insane._ We _both_ love books." She gave a delighted laugh and gave him a full smile. " _Booooooks_ … You know, we should do something together… " she paused briefly, thinking, then her face lit up. " _REad_. We should go _read_ together. Like, in the _library_ or something." Petra smiled, as if satisfied with her solution, then took another sip. Midway through, catching herself as though realizing something, she quickly pulled her cup away.

"Levi." She began earnestly. "You have a girlfriend, don't you?"

"Mm… yeah." Levi emptied the rest of his bottle. "Camille?"

Petra snapped her fingers. "Camille. _Yes._ I _love_ that girl. Where is she. She's _literally_ perfect."

"Yeah," Levi said, "we're not together anymore."

Petra looked at him even more confused, and he tried to ignore her stare. Clearly she knew about it earlier today (when she came in and yelled at him) so he had no idea why she had this sudden lapse in memory.

He hadn't really minded Camille, in fact, he had enjoyed her company. He often thought about what Hanji had said before, how she was proud that he was finally settling on someone, though to be fair, she always laughed right after she'd said that. Despite this, he couldn't imagine being with Camille forever, which was ultimately, it seemed, what she wanted. It wasn't until a couple of days before when Camille finally asked who _the cute redhead who's always around_ was.

"Just a friend?" Camille had asked, raising her eyebrows.

He had looked up from his laptop at her. The two of them had been sitting in the library, like they always were, studying. Well, Camille, at least, was studying. He was completing the New York Times Crossword. It had surprised him when she asked that question, but he guessed it wasn't unwarranted.

"Yes." he replied calmly. "Just a friend."

Unconvinced, she turned to her history textbook silently.

"Jesus," Levi said finally, pulling his glasses from his face. "What do you want me to say?"

"Well _I don't know_." Camille's voice became a sharp hiss, her cheeks flushing from anger.

Levi felt like punching himself for not saying something like _You're my only girl_ or _You're ten times sexier than her_ or _She's my cousin, don't be gross_. Instead he had stared at her, her cheeks flushed, her eyes aflame, angry. Then he closed his laptop screen, and collected his stuff, declaring, "Dawk's making all the RAs attend a meeting. I have to run." And he left her, going back to his dorm room, knowing full well that she didn't believe him. Believe anything.

Word got around the campus, quickly. But nobody seemed to care about the terms of the breakup, which Levi guessed, was somewhat good for him. It meant that he still seemed like the blase heartbreaker that slept around, leaving a trail of people in his wake. After he'd broken up with Camille, people who'd been waiting for this moment started showing up at his dorm room, knocking timidly or bursting in, demanding an audience with him. Sometimes he'd sit through it, humor them then make up some lame excuse like he had a load of laundry going, but otherwise, he'd straight up ignore them. He knew it was kind of a dick move, but you could only take so much. When Petra had walked into his room, he was expecting someone else, and was ready to let them have it. But when she came in, he almost felt relieved that it was her. And although he'd just broken up with Camille, he was surprised by how easily he fell out of love with her. He probably didn't like her that much then-that's not to say that he didn't care for her as a person. She was like what Petra had said: perfect. But maybe too perfect.

So when Petra walked in, wrapped up in a scarf and wearing a pair of brown leather boots, he felt somewhat glad to see her, and he suddenly felt compelled to sit up in his bed. And then she fucking went at him (which isn't to say she wasn't right about what she said… because she was).

He watched her now, polishing off the rest of her beer, and waited for her to speak. When she did, it was surprisingly clear. "So you and Camille… not a thing anymore."

"Nope."

"Like 100% not together."

Levi pursed his lips. "Mm… like 100%."

Petra gave him a weak smile, then grabbed some crackers from a bowl, a popped them into her mouth, one by one. "You have to eat otherwise you'll vomit." She explained solemnly. Then she traipsed out of the kitchen, leaving Levi to his own devices.

For the rest of the night, he decided he wanted to steer clear of anyone interested in getting in his pants. Today had been rough enough, with everyone talking about him… _again_. And although he normally didn't mind it, he wouldn't mind spending one night completely no strings attached. Around two in the morning he'd had enough. He picked up his jacket from the closet, and walked out, passing through the hallway. Hanji was passed out on the sofa, and because she was friends with so many of the frat guys, he knew she'd be fine-she'd probably spend the night face down on that couch. It wasn't until he got to the door that he noticed a redhead nearly passed out on the floor, completely curled around some random guy (who was passed out). After a moment's doubt, he finally walked over to her, lifting her from underneath her arm.

"Get up," he sighed, bringing her to her feet.

She opened her eyes lazily, then seeing that it was Levi, grinned madly. "Where are we going?"

He picked up her jacket and shoved it into her arms, waiting for her to put it on. "Back to the dorm."

Pulling the puffy coat on, she raised her eyebrows at him. "To the dorm? Since when do you care about whether or not I go back?"

"Since Hanji became flat out drunk and abandoned you."

"... you're drunk too."

He ignored her, and they walked out of the house.

It was cold when they walked outside, and the late fall air nipped at their faces and bare skin. He wondered how she could wear a dress and not freeze like this, and through his hazy thoughts, let her slump against him, her arms curled around his waist. They walked down the dimly lit path to their dorms. Dawk was gone when they arrived, and they stepped into the elevator in complete silence, Petra still around him, the air tense and the white lights in the elevator harsh. He glanced over at her, her eyes half closed, practically asleep. He could smell the faint traces of whatever perfume she'd put on mixed with the fading smell of alcohol. Levi had to admit, it felt nice to just have her hanging off of him, hugging his chest, her face pressed to his shoulder. He noted the faint splash of freckles on the bridge of the nose, and the way her eyelashes fluttered as she struggled to stay awake. But he pushed the thoughts away when they arrived at their floor. Impatient, he slid his right arm under her knees, and lifted her off her feet, carrying her by the crook of her knees and the back of her shoulders. Instinctively, she laced her arms around his neck, and let herself be carried by him to her dorm room, burying her face into his shoulder.

Levi stopped at her door, his thoughts still slightly clouded from the last shot he'd just had. "Petra," he sighed tiredly, "Where are your keys?"

"Mmm…" she groaned into his shoulder. "Don't have them…"

"Quit it. Just tell me where they are."

"... Hanji?... Doesn't matter. I'll just sleep with Levi."

"Petra, you're drunk."

She lifted her head lazily from his shoulder, her eye makeup a little smudged around the

corners of her eyes, flecks of mascara sprinkled around her eyelids. Smiling to herself, she echoed the words she'd told him back at the frat house.

"You're drunk too."

Petra stared at him, looking at the color of his eyes. They were this intense gray color, with these startling speckles of pale blue that made them stand out. She could feel his heartbeat, steady, through their layers of jackets, and she thought it was no wonder that people fell for him so easily. Her arms were still wound around his neck, and he still balanced her in his arms, unwavering. But it was late, and Petra was starting to become more conscious of the world around her. So she willed herself out of his arms, and stood up, pulling away and creating a cold space between the two of them. Shoving her hands into her jacket pocket, she felt the cool press of her key ring, and pulled it out, presenting it to Levi.

"I have my key, turns out." She unlocked the door, and went inside, forgetting to say goodnight, and leaving him out in the hall.

* * *

 **Author's Note**

What's good. I'll tell you what's good. _Not_ this chapter. Ugh I have been delaying this chapter (and updating, for that matter) for so long because I was never quite sure what to do with it, so I've gone through many drafts. To be honest, I was hoping (and still am) that I would have been struck by lightning that would have gave me a brilliant idea, but nothing. I have so much writing for this story (around 100+ pages piled away), but a lot of it is non-linear and there are gaps between chapters. I considered just making another spot on this website where I would upload all of the writing at once so that it's available to anyone who wants to read it. Also I figured that maybe I could make another spot on the site where I dump all of the rejected chapters there... thoughts?

I have been working like a lunatic all year up until summer break (yay), but I also can't promise regular updates because it's rude to break promises?

I'm also tempted to take this chapter down in a bit and then potentially re-upload a better one if that happens... we'll see...I don't know how I feel about this chapter and how it adds to the story/character development. I'll think about it some more.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

 _Late Fall - Winter_

Levi, for all intents and purposes, had led a relatively easy, and expectation free life. It was reflected in the way that he led his life—carefree, more socially awkward than you would expect, and him, with zero expectations for the outcomes in life. Back in Quebec, his parents were lax and gentle with their son. They would nurture him when he came home, and they weren't overbearing in any way. When they found out where he wanted to go for college, they were delighted, and if Levi remembers correctly, after he'd told them about his acceptance, his mom had gone back to cutting the carrots, and his dad left for the market to go buy a carton of milk. His sister, Mikasa, was a competitive kickboxer, and she hadn't even been there to hear the news. The Ackerman clan did not push for their children to excel, nor did they try to persuade him of the paths in life he should be taking. It kind of explained why he was so crappy at being in relationships. He couldn't find it in himself to really take this idea of commitment seriously and to adhere to the expectations given. He just couldn't always shower someone with love, he couldn't always act like he cared about everything, and he couldn't always find it in himself to date someone that he'd hooked up with for fun. Levi Ackerman lived a routinely uniform life with zero expectations.

And as much as he hated to admit it, Petra Ral had somehow found her way into his life and made a place for herself there. Not so much in a jarring, forcing him to spend time with her type of way (although that was true too), but more in her ever present, subtle, yet important presence that she had gained in his life. She joined them for coffee when Erwin and Mike went to go grab a cup. Whenever he would spend time with Hanji and they would hang around in her dorm room, they were never perturbed by Petra's quiet, studious presence. And it wasn't unusual for him to see her at parties every now and then. Petra just _was_. It felt weird, sometimes, having another person in his life who was a girl and whom he'd grown so accustomed to. Seeing her in his daily life no longer confused him.

After that first frat party, he was surprised by how much more of a constant in his life she became. They rarely, if ever, referred back to that night—save maybe when alluding to Hanji's apparent unreliability and penchant for getting blackout drunk. Reasons, they used, when arguing against being dragged back to any with Hanji. But since that night, they had yet to spend a night drunk together again. And for some reason, Levi wanted to keep it that way. Still, when he checked his messages throughout the day, he could usually count on one from Petra. Today, stepping out of one of his history discussion classes, he scrolled through the notifications on his phone—snapchats from girls he barely remembered, spam from Hanji that was probably filled with pictures of petri dishes, Erwin asking to make plans for the next day. The only messages he replied to almost immediately and consistently were Petra's. Even if he tried to avoid them, she'd probably call him, and at that point, he found it harder to ignore her. Somehow, he found her less annoying than Hanji, Erwin, and Mike combined.

Sitting in the library across from her, he found himself suddenly thinking back to that night from a week back, and every so often, after highlighting a passage from his book, he would reward himself with a glance over the top of his page—as if by spacing it out, he could pretend that he wasn't studying her features. She had a splash of freckles that were barely noticeable in the winter time, as if because of the cold weather they were beginning to fade from lack of sunlight. She was cute—she was pretty. He almost flinched when she suddenly looked up, pushing her hair from her face, and he dropped the highlighter from his hand, cursing lightly.

"I can't read any of this anymore," she said, gesturing to her textbook.

He stirred from his comfortable sitting position, stooping down to the ground to grab his pen.

"Tough shit, Petra," he growled, trying to set the scowl deep into the space between his eyebrows. He sat back up, grazing her forehead when he realized that she had leaned across the table to watch what he was doing. He scowled at her, looking angrier than usual, and she couldn't figure out what she had done.

"Jesus, okay, I'll shut up." She pulled open her laptop, seemingly checking her calendar. "I hadn't realized how engrossed you were in your reading, god," she mumbled under her breath. She readjusted the glasses that had been sitting on the bridge of her nose—he rarely ever saw her wearing those. He listened to her speak under her breath as she read out various appointments, and occasionally, he would catch some bits and pieces—stray words, like _coffee date_ , or something like _visit_ , or _break_. She stared intently at the screen, the light from it glaring into her glasses lenses. He was staring again. Why did this keep happening. He resigned himself to his fate, and bookmarked the page, deciding he'd finish the reading later in the peace of his room—that is, if Erwin didn't ram his door down when he realized Levi had left his texts on read.

" _Spend Thanksgiving_ …" he watched as she formed the words with her lips, spending deliberate time on every syllable, as if she was trying to make sense of what she was reading. She glanced up for the second time tonight, and he flinched again, ever so slightly. "What are you planning for Thanksgiving?" Petra pulled her glasses from her face, rubbing the tiredness from her eyes. He replied with an unintelligible grunt.

"Oh right—you're…" she snapped her fingers, as if searching for the words. "Canadian. You're Canadian, right?"

"How considerate of you to remember," Levi replied, pulling his phone from his pocket.

"Canadians… do you celebrate Thanksgiving? Or is this just a pointless time off for you—time to just like watch the Macy's Parade, or I don't know—"

"We celebrate Thanksgiving. Just in October, like normal people." He sighed, scrolling

aimlessly down a pit of photos online.

"Okay, well, don't push it, Levi." Petra sighed back in response, exasperated with his insolence. "Before you get back on the offense, I'm just trying to say, I figure you're not doing much this holiday." She paused, and took his silence as compliance. "I was planning on going back to New York, spending the holidays with family, you know—"

" _No_." He quickly responded, not even bothering to look up.

"You didn't even let me finish."

"I don't need you to know my answer," he replied shortly, working to start packing away at his things. "I'll spend Thanksgiving the way I have all the other past years, thank you."

"What, alone with a bottle of bourbon in your room? Maybe with a Netflix special, or what, Charlie Brown?"

"Funny."

"I'm serious," she pressed, looking up at him earnestly. "I know you're not doing much, and sure you can join all the other wandering souls on campus, but really—be my guest." He looked up at her, finally, from his phone. All he could see were her stupid freckles and the flecks of gold in her eyes. It threw him off for a second.

"Drop it."

" _When you agree_ —"

"— _stop it_ ," Levi groaned. She watched as he started packing his bag to head out—maybe to a lecture, grab coffee, avoid her—but she couldn't help but grin as she watched him go. She would convince him, one way or another. Levi kept his head bowed, his hair brushing his forehead as it fell in front of his face, and he was too distracted to get it out of his eyes. _So bothersome_ , he thought to himself. He stood up, popping his earbuds in, ignoring Petra's giggling _Goodbye_ , as he stormed off to go find Erwin and get a coffee.

* * *

The worst part about hanging out with Erwin is the amount of responsibility Erwin felt towards making sure Levi's life wasn't in shambles. To be fair, his worries weren't unwarranted. It was a text here, a phone call there—just enough to make sure that Levi hadn't completely fucked himself over. More than usual, at least. One of the requirements that Erwin enforced in their friendship was meeting often enough for coffee. It was a sort of neutral ground where any conversation was fair game—just casual enough for Levi to feel like he wasn't being grilled, but at a time where both were sober enough to properly talk about topics important enough to need talking about. Sometimes, Levi wondered how the two of them even became friends. They led different lives in high school. Erwin, a privileged student who attended top schools on his father's paycheck, captain of the football team—quarterback. Levi, a then very scrawny Canadian kid who was good enough at football—not American football, _soccer_ —to find something consistent to do in the afternoons after class. But somehow, they both got the same acceptance letter, and both decided to come to the same university, where they would end up meeting during new student orientation, nearly passed out, hanging by a kitchen island in a random frat house. Sometimes, Levi wondered, if it weren't for Erwin if he would even have friends. Friendships which didn't expire past a few months.

The two of them sat there, sipping at their drinks. Erwin, pleased by what Levi had said, despite having been disappointed by his breakup—I mean, what was he, his _father?_ —decided to turn his attention back to the same book Levi had been paging through, _In the Garden of Beasts_ , and was set on finishing up the reading before tonight. Levi resigned himself to doing the same, but underneath the table, he scrolled through his phone, bored. He turned his phone off, prepared to continue reading about the American ambassador's daughter's antics, when his phone lit up once again. Petra.

 _I bought your Amtrak ticket! Plz venmo when you get a chance._

Levi sighed, resigned to his fate, and looking up at Erwin's inquisitive look, decided it would be better just to dismiss whatever thoughts his friend had. "Fuck off, eyebrows."

A couple days later Erwin watched Levi from his bed as the short raven-haired student crossed his room, throwing random shirts and sweaters into the duffle at the foot of the bed. He watched amused as Levi walked, mumbling random words to himself— _shirt, no, it'll be cold… another sweater? Jeans?_

"Nervous, Levi?" Erwin smirked as he watched Levi's irritation grow. "You're not a very good packer."

"What to you bring," Levi mumbled to himself, "When you're staying at a stranger's house in New York. What gifts do you bring? What clothing do you wear?" Levi continued speaking to himself, cursing low in Quebecois French, a string of expletives Erwin is sure would put any Canadian to shame.

* * *

The train ride to New York was an hour and a half long, and since they got a few days off, Petra invited Levi to stay over, because, in her words, _Who'd want to have a three train ride just to eat a turkey?_

They boarded the Amtrak, Petra insisting that she get the window seat, and Levi rolling his eyes in reply. _She was so easy to please, honestly, like a kid._ Levi thought to himself.

The minute the train started pulling away, they both pulled out their laptops, trying to make the most of their train ride by finishing papers and presentations due the Monday they get back. Petra had settled herself into her seat, slipping her feet out of her boots and pulling them up onto the chair so she could sit cross-legged. Then she even slipped on a pair of long knit fingerless gloves before she opened up her laptop. Levi swore he'd finished the first paragraph on his paper before she'd even put the heading on hers.

"Ready?" he asked mockingly.

"Yeah!" she replied brightly. "Just because I'm not as stiff as you about sitting on public transportation doesn't mean you should make fun of me." she added, eliciting a snicker from him.

She popped in a pair of earbuds, and he turned his attention back to the paper assigned: _Research paper on one successful PT method and its long-term effects._ He'd sooner rather lay in a ditch.

He ran his hands through his hair and glanced back down at the annotations he'd made on his outline, the pages sticking out from underneath his computer. He'd mapped it all out, so _why wouldn't the words just come?_

Sighing, he chose to look around the car instead of trying to burn holes through his paper, and came across Petra's white cable knit boot socks. Usually he hated when people took their shoes off—unless when in someone's house, of course—being the clean freak he was, but somehow it didn't even bother him that Petra had slipped hers off. He'd seen her do it, but he didn't even say anything about it. Was he starting to just become used to germs?! Or maybe it was just because it was Petra. If it was Hanji or Erwin, he'd think the same, right? … Okay, that was a fucking lie. But that was because the two of them were different. Erwin sometimes had downright nasty socks, and Hanji insisted on wearing heels or running shoes most of the time—neither or which would come off. And when she did wear boots, they never came off either in the first place. But Petra was different too?

"God damn…" he muttered under his breath. Since when did he start memorizing everyone's habits? Who was next? Dok?

"Tough paper?" Petra asked, pulling an earbud out.

He grunted in reply, not wishing to indulge on either his paper nor his present thoughts, given that most of them had been focused on _her_.

She grinned—her smile was infuriatingly _brilliant_ —and ran her hand through her hair, letting out a sigh of her own. "I know exactly how you're feeling. Well, maybe not exactly." she said, smiling sheepishly. "I guess things get a bit harder when you're a scary upperclassman, right?"

"I'm not fucking _scary_." he replied.

"Please." Petra laughed. "I bet kids would run away from a scowl like _that_."

"Ha ha." Levi replied, giving her shoulder shove.

Giggling, she glanced back at him. "I was just joking, by the way." she added quickly. "I didn't _mean_ that—"

"I know. You don't have to apologize so much." Levi said, finding himself staring at her, for just a beat too long. He was close enough to touch the tips of his hair.

Clearing his throat, he pulled away, looking back at his glowing screen instead.

Petra was frozen in her place, her cheeks warm. Had she just imagined that moment? Following his lead, she decided to shake it off. She turned back to her computer, popping back in her earbud, and stared intently at the near blank word document she'd been working on.

A half hour later, Petra was staring at about the same spot on her screen. She'd spent thirty minutes typing, then deleting… then _retyping…_ then deleting again. Why couldn't she just finish this?

Resigning herself to the potential of not being able to finish any work—at least not within this next hour or so—she shut her laptop, and slid it back into its sleeve. Glancing over at Levi, she noticed how he was staring intently at his computer, as if deep in thought, and mentally kicked herself at how he could be so productive when _she couldn't_.

"I'm going to go get something from the snack car." she declared, grabbing her purse. She'd meant for it to be short and quick, so as not to bother his work, when she noticed him staring up at her, and closing his own computer.

"I'll come too then." he said, sliding his computer into his bag.

"Aren't you working?" she asked, puzzled.

"Playing sudoku is hardly work." he scoffed, grabbing his jacket.

Shrugging, she started ahead, finding herself almost _distancing_ herself from him. Was she? She pushed away the thoughts. Unconvinced, she laced her fingers through strands of her hair, and tried clearing her thoughts, focusing instead on her paper…

They left the snack car with Petra carrying a cup of hot chocolate and a bag of Gardetto's, and Levi nursing a cup of black coffee—which made Petra surprised when he said he took it _Black, like his soul_.

"Your soul is not black." she argued as they walked back down the aisle of sleeping business workers. "It has _at least_ like a sugar cube, or a dash or cream or something. _At least_."

"If you say so," he replied, reaching into her bag of snacks.

"Also," she said, popping the cheese squiggle into her mouth. "I was _really_ hoping they'd have the bag with only the brown toastie ones. Because they actually sell those—I mean who wants the pretzels? Nobody likes pretzels!"

"I like pretzels."

"I know you do."

"…Wait a fucking second, Ral."

Giggling once again—she giggled a lot, and it wasn't laughter, it was a _giggle_ , like a light, soft, happy thing—she slid into her seat.

"You see, I have this theory that you either never get the piece you want, or that your mortal

enemy _always_ gets the piece you want." she explained.

"I didn't think someone like you _had_ mortal enemies. But I guess you'd be the one to share your bag of Gardetto's with them if you did." he added smirking.

"Besides the point. Okay, wait, watch me." turning towards him dramatically, she reached her hand into the bag, and pulled out a pretzel. "Every. Single. Time."

"Okay, but that doesn't count. You definitely rigged it that time to prove you're right." Levi said, opening his computer back up.

"My research is conducted with the utmost amount of integrity." Petra replied in mock offense. "Try it yourself."

Glancing from his half finished sudoku over to the copper haired girl shaking a bag of the twin of Chex Mix in front of his face, he sighed, and submitted himself to shoving his hand in the bag, pulling out a cracker at random.

"Rye toast!" Petra declared triumphantly.

"But based on your past conjectures, that means that either I _hate_ the toasts—which is _fucking false_ —or that I'm your mortal enemy."

"You and your fancy words," Petra replied. "And anyways, _keep your friends close, but your enemies closer_." she added, leaning her face towards his for emphasis.

He felt his cheeks grow warm when he realized how close she was to him, how he could just tilt his face up and—

 _Stop Levi. This is Petra. What are you, so low of a person you'd go and just bang your friend like all those other girls?_

 _But Petra_ isn't _like those other girls_. An annoying part in his head replied.

Grunting, he pushed her face away with the heel of his palm, making her squeak in protest, then shoved the damned piece of toast into her mouth.

"Truce." he replied, turning back to his sudoku.

Petra, pleased, nodded and passed him the pretzel, which he ate in one bite. And he could ignore the fact that he just ate food held by another person.

* * *

 **Author's Note**

A large part of this chapter is old—I think I'd written it over a year ago (maybe almost two years ago?), while most of the previous chapters here were written last year when they were first published, so in many ways, the writing style might be slightly different. Reading it, everything feels just a bit more immature, aha. It's been a busy year. I love sharing thoughts here in the author's notes, though I understand it can be a bit tedious to read. Either way, I really do just love to hear your thoughts on the chapter and on the story overall—apologies if just in some ways I have not been receptive in the past. In other words, I've matured a lot.

It's been just right about a year since I've updated, but what's been interesting enough is that this story has always been on mind. I have yet to write a full story other than fanfiction in the longest time, and this is the most consistent project that I've held in a long while. I feel motivated to refine it—I'm not quite sure why. In other words, this has so far been a meaningful project to me for some truly, inexplicable reason. I'm sorry not to have updated sooner, and as the fandom's population dwindles, I still find an odd attachment to this story, perhaps because of how young I really was when I first started watching and reading it, that I was so fascinated and marveled by it and the creation of this world and the characters. So, in short, thank you all.

Please leave any thoughts, or requests in your reviews or in private messages (would love to hear) as I've recently started a drabble series (yay), and truly, I have very few ideas for that one.

I'd hate to make any promises, because I don't want to break any of them. Thanks, if you did, for sticking around and reading to the end of this very long author's letter. And I hope you enjoyed the chapter after this very long hiatus.

—Hymuk.

P.S. In the process of re-writing and editing, I have a lot of extra material that will go unpublished—scraps, as you were. I figure why not have more material on the ship? Would you all prefer if I added it throughout this story or to a separate document that I can update alongside?


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

Levi had been used to spending his college Thanksgiving days alone. Breaks never lined up correctly, and he never felt like it was worth it to make the long haul back home if only for a few days. He spent dinner in the dining rooms of kind hearted professors who opened up their homes to the students who were left behind, sitting around a table, sandwiched between two other students he knew nothing about. Gradually, he found himself getting put off by the smattering of random students—the occasional international student who was intrigued by the tradition and the eclectic bunch of winter time loners. After the first one, he decided that he felt better off spending the night alone. So the next year he locked himself in his room with a girl, smoking the room out, spending the entire night in a haze until he could barely distinguish the beginning of the night from the end.

So he couldn't remember the last time he had received an invitation to go home with someone for the holidays. Hanji and Erwin had become accustomed to him denying their offers, and after a while, he watched them begin to linger around campus as well. They chose to either spend it in their dorms, the surroundings, or decide to venture out to another city on the coast. But he guessed that was all before Petra was a part of the picture.

He followed her out of Penn Station, his duffle slung across his body, and somehow, he began to see the place differently, as if through the lens of her eyes. The station didn't look quite as dirty or crowded as it usually did, and when they took the escalator up to the streets, he welcomed the din of traffic and the city. Travelling with Petra made the mundane details feel less like a chore and more like aspects of the experience of going home for the holidays. Petra babbled on, almost mindlessly, and he was impressed by how many conversations she could produce and let fall from her tip of her tongue. His headphones hung lamely around his neck, becoming nothing more than decoration, as he chose to listen Petra talk instead as he followed her across Manhattan to her home.

They'd taken the train up Wednesday evening, leaving campus immediately after Petra finished her Urban Studies lecture—because, as she'd claimed, Professor Glenn's lectures were never worth missing. By the time they arrived on Petra's doorstep—a tall brownstone on the UES, a wreath made of plastic autumn leaves hanging from the door—the windows had a yellowish glow from behind the drapes, and Levi could hear laughter emanating from the warm house.

Petra unlocked the door with her keys, but before they stepped in, she briefed him quickly on everything she'd left out back on the train. "Aunt Rose is staying with us—she's the one with the grey but well coiffed hair. My parents, Peter and Emily, but I've already mentioned that—just double checking to make sure you remember—my sister is Elena, her fiancé is Tom." Petra scrutinized him quickly, then, as she continued to speak, brushed at some of the dust from travelling that had settled on him. He stiffened under her touch, and his heart did a funny little skip. He ignored it and tried hard to refocus on her voice. "A few family friends are here tonight, some of my childhood friends I mentioned are here too, the guys, but I'll introduce them inside. Just a little tradition, day before Thanksgiving friends are over. Fun." She removed her hands, smiling up at him, and he responded by not scowling. "Just try to be how you're not usually—which is reclusive and rude—and I'm sure they'll all love you."

"What's not to love about me," he asked, an eyebrow raised, and Petra laughed lightly, pushing open the door.

Levi followed Petra in tow as members of her family came excitedly to greet her, hug her, and begin to chat animatedly. He smiled, warmly accepting their hugs, handshakes, and playing the part of the guest. But it wasn't exactly hard in the Ral household, and the whole of her family was just as charming as Petra was normally. He spoke at length with her parents, joking drily and entertaining their questions about the school—"We really just hope that Petra's happy with the transfer," her mother said earnestly—and every so often, he could feel Petra watching him, clearly pleased with his performance.

She took him on a tour of the room, grabbing wine glasses for both of them, introducing him to various guests as she seamlessly transitioned from the homecoming to the hostess, laughing and joking with the family friends. So this is where she belongs, he thought quietly to himself. He sipped at his drink, watching entertained as she was so clearly in her element, simply being amongst other people. It made him feel a little out of place, being with her, but there was also another part of him that didn't want to push her away, but rather try and stay closer with her because of it. How they became friends, he doesn't know if he'll ever understand.

"You're doing great," she whispered to him once they were out of anyone else's earshot. "You've survived all the hard stuff, now let's just go say hi to my friends."

Walking through the crowd, Petra pointed them out, but they were hard to miss—a group of guys their age, huddled around in a corner, away from the well dressed and mild mannered adults of the room. "It's tradition," she explained briefly as she smiled, waving at them enthusiastically. "They're like family."

Levi watched as one of them swept Petra into his arms, swinging her around in a circle as the other guys laughed and began speaking to her. Petra offered quick introductions of each of them, explaining again to him how they'd practically grown up together—"Erd always used to make sure no one dared bother me," she said, laughing—and how Petra had attended college with Auruo for a bit before she'd transferred. They all seemed intrigued by Levi, and laughed at Petra's story about how she met him, much to his embarrassment, and though he was definitely enjoying their company, he felt obliged to split off from them when Petra's parents beckoned him to talk with them.

"Why do I feel like I've met him before?" Erd asked when he was out of earshot. They all glanced at Levi as he talked with her parents.

"In what world?" Petra asked, scoffing dismissively. "I will say, though, he's made quite a name for himself back at our school." She added, taking a sip from her wine glass.

Gunther looked at her curiously. "In what way?"

"Well," Petra explained. "He's something of a resident playboy. He sleeps around a lot, is detached and cold, throws girls away like they were an ad in the morning paper."

"Detached?" Gunther asked, eyes trained across the room. "Doesn't seem that way." He motioned towards him, and they turned back, all too conspicuously, and noted how he was conversing easily with her parents.

"Impressive then, Pet." Eld whispered excitedly. "Sounds like he sleeps and leaves. But you, he actually _came home to_ meet _your parents_."

Petra laughed, brushing off his comment, her neck starting to prickle and feel hot as she sensed what he was getting at. She bristled under their expectant stares, waiting for her to say something about her and Levi. She could already imagine their eager questions, the comments they would have. And if it was so easy her for her to imagine all of this, to imagine herself answering these questions, she wondered why she kept trying to push these thoughts away. Petra swallowed, her saliva thick, and she forced a smile.

"We're… not dating."

The three stared at her shocked as her cheeks became a light shade of pink. The prickling sensation on her neck grew hotter as she watched their expressions slowly fade away.

"You're… not?" Gunther asked, breaking the silence.

"So you guys haven't hooked up." Eld added, slightly disappointed.

"Stop it," she replied scathingly.

"Well, either way, you two seem close." Eld said, adding a wink. "I wouldn't be surprised if there were some feelings there."

Petra felt her face grow hot again, and she grew quiet. None of them were teasing anymore, and quickly enough, they slipped into another conversation. Something about Fortnite. Petra listened to their banter, but she was starting to spiral into her own thoughts, taking her far away from her house. She excused herself, stepping away from the group and walking towards the hall.

The three paused their conversation as they watched their short friend walk away.

"It'll happen," Gunther said matter-of-factly, noticing the way that Levi's head turned towards Petra as she walked by. Auruo grunted in agreement, and then the three of them resumed their conversation, talking about who had the most wins.

Petra stepped into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. Leaning against the countertop, she began to think about her and Levi. They were friends, to be sure, and they'd grown close over the course of, what, two, three months? But they were _just_ friends. Really, good friends. Probably one of her _best_ friends, at this point. But why, _why_ , did everyone keep thinking that they were dating? Because they weren't. And they clearly weren't, because, because…

"Hey." she jumped at the sound of his voice, and quickly spun around, taking note of Levi's more casual state. He'd taken off his larger jacket and was wearing a dark v-neck and button-up, the sleeves rolled up. He looked good. She almost let the words roll off her tongue before she stopped herself.

"Holy crap, you're really jumpy today." he said, watching the way she had nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Fine, I'm just fine." she sighed. "I just, need some air." Petra forced a smile, meeting his eyes, failing to notice the concern that was hidden there. "I think I'll get some sleep. There's going to be a lot more to do tomorrow night."

* * *

Around the table they set their forks and knives down periodically, picking up their wine glasses to take sips from whatever remained, the conversation gradually growing just a tinge more raucous from the alcohol. It was a small gathering as far as Thanksgiving dinners could go, with three generations of Ral stacked along the dining table, nine members of the family spread across. And Levi had been granted the tenth spot at their table, wedged in next to Petra and her mother's sister. He entertained polite talk with Petra's aunt, ignoring the suggestive glances that she gave him and Petra when she thought neither of them were looking. He kept trying to find it in himself to correct her, to tell her, _Oh no, you've got the wrong idea,_ but something about sitting there made him feel less inclined to make the effort to do so. He felt comfortable sitting next to Petra, and so what if they thought that—Petra's probably already told them otherwise.

Levi had already become adjusted to being around the Ral family, all of whom were just as hospitable as he had expected. They welcomed him without question, easily integrating him into their family conversations and lifestyle as if he had been with them the whole time. He wondered if they were this way every time Petra brought some stranger into their home. His gaze was drawn to Petra as she laughed at something her sister said, and when she turned back to smile at him he found himself smiling back.

"Are you tired?" She asked, dropping her voice to a low whisper to avoid interrupting the table's conversation, glancing around as if to indicate to him whether or not her family was exhausting him.

He shrugged in response, "I mean, it's okay."

Petra nodded, sipping from her glass, tipping it back. She didn't want to admit it just yet, but Levi had done a better job than she'd expected of charming her family, namely her aunt. He was definitely leaving some lasting impression on them. "Here," Petra said, refilling her glass from the wine bottle on the table. "I'll take you upstairs. That way you can at least have the _option_ of getting away from them." She giggled lightly at the last part, as if amused from her own joke, and stood up from the table, Levi following.

She led him back out the the hallway where Levi had first seen the grand main staircase, surprised by how much quieter it was here, far from the dining room. Petra chittered about random topics as they walked up, her steps unstable from the wine, and he remembered having watched her knock back several glasses. She stumbled on a step, and he instinctively moved his arms out to stabilize her, eliciting a faint laugh from Petra as she struggled to sway and keep the red wine from spilling onto the stair treads. Levi held her close to him, hugging her waist, and her face was so close to his that he could notice the freckles splashed on her nose—it was always the one part of her he couldn't miss. Giggling still, Petra smiled at him, her face breaking into this expression of pure joy that it made him wonder how she could stand to be with someone who was scowling all the time. He could feel her breathing, smell the wine under her breath, and when she leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips, making his skin tingle, it felt like the most natural thing to do. When she pulled away, he couldn't help but feel disappointed, his gaze holding on to her lips which were slightly parted.

"Petra, stop." Levi whispered to her, his voice low, his eyes clouded with something that Petra couldn't quite make out.

"Why?" She asked, setting the wine glass a step down, laying butterfly kisses up and down his neck.

He felt her brush her lips over his pulse, and Levi felt every muscle in his body tense as wordlessly he hugged her tighter against him. "Because," he started, distracted by her lips and roaming hands, "You're drunk."

"Not drunk enough," she sang softly, draping one arm around his neck, her other hand traveling to his thigh. He couldn't think straight. He shouldn't be doing this, but something about it felt right. But Petra's his friend… _Fuck it…_

She traced her hand up and down his thigh, and when she kissed him a second time, he didn't bother try and stop her. Levi kissed her back urgently, parting her lips with his own, weaving his hands through her hair, which was just as soft as he'd always imagined it would be. He kissed her back, trying to pretend that he hadn't always imagined what this moment would feel like, like he hadn't always caught Petra staring at him for a second too long. Petra's breath caught in her throat when Levi kissed her back, his lips soft but eager against hers, as if he was trying to take her all in. He held her by the curve of her lower back, and Petra felt herself falling into his hold, melting into his touch, and letting herself become intoxicated by him. She traced her hands up and down his shoulders, feeling his chest rumble from a low groan he let out, and he lifted her up, carrying her up the stairs. She laughed, directing him down the hallway to his room, leaving kisses up and down his neck and playing with the top buttons of his shirt, exposing some skin.

He opened the door to the room, Petra's legs wrapped around his waist, her lips distracting him, her tongue lightly tracing his lips, making him groan under his breath. Her hands travelled up the back of his neck, tangling themselves into his hair, and he wondered, briefly, how long he had been hoping that this would happen.

 _Longer than he realized_ , he thought, sitting back on the bed, Petra wrapped around him. He felt her began to trace her hands up his bare chest as she unbuttoned the last of his shirt, and all he could think about was getting rid of the clothing between them. He liked Petra. A lot. He'd never asked himself how he liked her, but all he knew was that he liked spending time with her. He liked being with her, and he liked all of the dumb things that she did. Insist on going to Starbucks even though the coffee was crap. Force him to spend afternoons with her on the grass, spread out, their textbooks open even though they were doing everything but studying. The smell of her hair… He traced his fingers through her hair, kissing her behind her ear. "Petra," he murmured under his breath, holding on to her waist tightly, his breath tickling her skin and making it burn under his touch.

He traced his lips down her neck, eliciting a soft moan that made her skin vibrate, his hands reaching down to lift up her shirt. But then he hesitated.

* * *

Petra walked back down to the kitchen, lumbering, trying to straighten herself and refocus her mind. She held the wine glass in her left hand, still full, and she made her way back down into the kitchen where the rest of her family was waiting. Some shoes and coats were missing from the front door, indicating that some had already left. Petra stepped into the kitchen where she found her aunt helping put some dishes away.

"Your parents are useless drunk," she said to Petra once she stepped in the kitchen, remaining hunched over the loaded dishwasher. Petra felt like she could hear something that was veiled under her Aunt Rose's otherwise mundane tone. Was it knowing? It almost sounded triumphant, as if Petra's absence had confirmed her thoughts. _And maybe it had… or almost had._ Petra laughed lightly, but she wasn't there, her thoughts drifting back to just a few moments earlier. His hands tangled in her hair, his body pressed against hers. That was until the spell was broken. Petra couldn't fully understand what had happened, but she also couldn't fully understand what she wanted. She felt confused.

When Levi had picked her up, she'd gotten excited. It was uncharted territory, everything was new, and it was thrilling. It wasn't a secret to her anymore how she felt. Even better, he'd reciprocated and accepted her kisses. He'd kissed her back, and she could feel him echo her desperation, as if both of them had been waiting for this for a long time. She held him tightly around his neck and around his waist, not bothering to think beyond the immediate now. She'd traced her fingers up and down his back, then brought them to his chest when he finally opened the bedroom door. And when they were both on the bed, Petra's legs wrapped around her, sitting in his lap, she was surprised when he told her to stop again.

"We don't know what we're doing," he said, staring at her.

"Yes we do," she insisted. "Doesn't this feel good for you?"

He held her firmly, keeping her from planting another kiss. "But Petra," he whispered to her. "What do we both want." Her eyes widened slightly at his insistence, and Petra let her hands drop from the sides of his face. She suddenly felt scared. And smaller. Levi had slept with so many girls on campus, at least from what she'd heard, and she wondered suddenly if she might be another one of those girls. Who would she hang out with after classes. Would they still have the same relationship. Could they even still be friends? But then again, maybe something different wouldn't be so bad. Maybe something new could be… better.

Her aunt's voice finally snapped her back out of her thoughts when she heard her mention Levi's name.

"He's nice," her aunt repeated when she noticed Petra's dazed look.

"Oh, Levi." Petra repeated, feeling his name roll of her tongue. "Yeah, he is."

Her aunt smiled wistfully at her, watching her only niece struggle with the fine lines of emerging adulthood. She wished she knew what to tell her—she wished she was able to find the exact words to solve all of Petra's problems. Instead she walked up and brushed at Petra's cheeks, then grabbed her coat off of the chair she'd set it on.

"Goodnight Petra. Give Levi my regards." Petra smiled at her aunt, realizing that this was maybe something as close to her aunt's stamp of approval that she would get.

Levi was probably sleeping after the conversation they'd had. After Petra had pressed her lips one last time to his jaw and stood up to give each of them space. God, why was she this stupid? She always had to do something to mess it up between them. When he carried her home from the party, when he finally started opening up and agreed to come to her house for the holidays and she made out with him.

But he had reciprocated. He had been just as invested in their open mouth kisses and just as eager to sneak upstairs to his room and get inside. But then he had stopped. Not because he hadn't wanted it. She knew he'd wanted it. She could feel it in his touches, in his kisses, she could hear it in his moans. But he had.

He was making her head spin.

She stood in front of the bathroom mirror. The foam from her toothpaste was caught in the corners of her lips, and her toothbrush stuck out of her mouth, where her teeth held it in place. If she looked closely, scrutinized herself, she could see remnant smudges of mascara under her eyes in the corners she'd missed. There were a few pimples here and there, acne scars. She should probably look into those. It was easy for her to get distracted, and she pulled her hair to the side, spitting, then rinsing her mouth under the tap. _Maybe she could just forget about all of this in the morning_. She put her toothbrush away, and stepped out of the bathroom, walking back to bed.

Petra tossed in bed, rolling onto her back. She felt like something was caught in her throat and her eyes felt hot and stinging. She wanted to cry. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt humiliated like this. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt anything like this.

"You were wrong Erd," she whispered to herself, staring up at the dark ceiling. What was she thinking? What did she want?

She rolled over again, half tempted to reach for her phone across the room. She'd been trying to cut back on phone usage. The app she used to track her usage said she was spending around four hours a day on it. And the main source of battery usage? The snaps that she would send back and forth with Levi throughout the days. She felt giddy whenever she got a message from him. And why was she stupid enough to never think why that was?

Petra hated the thought that she'd have to face him again tomorrow over breakfast. Have to look at his stupid face and have to endure the horrendous small talk that would take place over toast.

 _How did you sleep? — Oh, great, thanks. You? — Fine, thanks. Do you want to go into the city today? — No, I'm good. I think I'll just finish some work if that's alright with you. — Oh. No, that's great! I'll see an old friend then. — Sounds good. Have fun. — Thanks!_

She hated that the conversation would be stilted. She hated that he would be living with this knowledge on his mind, that every minute he spent in her childhood home, he was probably imagining the relief he would feel when he stepped back on to campus, and into the privacy of his dorm room. Petra could already feel the false smile plastered on her face, the syrupy enthusiasm that would lace her voice that would be punctuated with an inflection, supposedly indicating joy. Her parents at the table… her sister and her soon to be brother-in-law… just a few more witnesses in the murder of Petra Ral.

Petra couldn't fall asleep. Her thoughts were too loud. And when she dreamed, she dreamed of him.

 **Author's Note**

It happened guys. Much shitty writing. In part the reason why it took me so long to update was because I wasn't sure if it should happen yet or if I should've just continued with the slow burn lol. I love writing all those like small-touches heart-skipping-a-beat details, but the chapter was already written and it fits in well with the overall progression soo it happened.

Thanks so much for all the reviews—it really means a lot to read them and it warms my little heart when I get the chance to read all of your thoughts and comments on the story. So please leave more, I really love hearing your thoughts! I'll try as best as I can to respond as well because they're really just all such a delight. :)

In terms of the scraps, I feel bad not having posted any yet because I'm still conflicted about putting it in the same document or a new one (such a dumb dilemma aha). Ultimately I think I'm gonna create a new story so it doesn't interrupt the flow—just be warned though, the writing is really crappy (so please don't use it as a gauge of any sorts aha).


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